


Snow White Discovers Spanking

by afterandalasia



Category: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)
Genre: Community: disney_kink, F/M, First Time, Kink Discovery, Post-Movie(s), Self-Spanking, Spanking, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-02
Updated: 2012-02-02
Packaged: 2018-06-01 20:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6535141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snow White had not known what the wedding night would hold, but once it is explained to her she comes to somewhat enjoy it.</p><p>But then, quite by accident, a strike to her rear gives her different feelings altogether, and there is a whole new concept to explore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow White Discovers Spanking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dottie_ditto](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=dottie_ditto).



> From the [prompt](http://disney-kink.livejournal.com/4400.html?thread=4140592#t4140592) at Disney Kink.
> 
> I originally intended to fill this anonymously, because I had not tried to write spanking kink before. My anonymousing skills were not that strong, however! So it ended up being deanoned partway through.

The very night before her wedding, Snow White had not known what was to come. She was excited for the ceremony itself, for the chance to dance and sing with Prince Ferdinand as the dwarves played for them. Of course, she knew of 'the marriage bed', but she supposed that it would be the time to curl up in his arms and be held close to him.  
  
When the actual wedding night came around, she was shocked - and, as he realised her naivete, so did he. Smoothing down her nightgown where he had been about to remove it and kissing her forehead with a murmured apology, he left the room and allowed her to compose herself. Shortly afterwards, one of the older maids arrived in the room to explain things to her.  
  
After that, things seemed a little clearer.  
  
The following night, Ferdinand returned once again, seeming a little nervous, but she smiled as sweetly as she could and held out her hand for him. He was gentle with her, careful with every touch, and she did not think it as bad as the maid had warned her it might be. Afterwards she curled up closely to him and fell asleep in his arms, warm and contented.  
  


 

 

  
  
She grew used to sharing Ferdinand's bed, thinking it an expected more than a pleasurable thing, but did not mind it much. After a while, she came in some ways even to enjoy it, his attention and tenderness, and to hope that perhaps before too long she might have a child.  
  
The change in things came by accident.  
  
She and Ferdinand were fooling around in the garden, walking hand-in-hand in the gardens; occasionally Snow White would slip from his grasp and run for a short distance before allowing him to catch her and scoop her up in his arms with breathless laughter. This she did enjoy, but it still caught her off guard as, on one of his attempts to catch hold of her, Ferdinand's outstretched, glove-clad hand clapped firmly against her rear.  
  
Snow White's breath caught in her throat, and she turned to face him; his expression was slightly pained. "I'm sorry," he says immediately. "I did not mean--"  
  
"Oh no, it's fine," she replied, and thought to smile. "You still haven't caught me though!"  
  
And she darted off again between the trees, trying not to think of the warm flush that seemed to have spread across her from just one touch, and the way that her body had tingled with the dulled thudding sound.  
  


 

 

  
  
Rather later, in her chambers, she thought about things for a while, then shimmied off her dress to stand in just her linen under-tunic. Turning, she regarded her own rear in the mirror, arching it to see the curve of her buttocks beneath her tunic. She had never really considered it before. Snow bent slightly at the waist to place one hand on the table and, still twisting to look over her shoulder, raised her hand above her own rear.  
  
She could remember the way that her blood had seemed to tickle in her veins from the one careless blow from her husband's hand. Her stomach fluttered, chest feeling tight, as she flexed her wrist slightly upwards then, in one sudden move, bought the palm of her hand down sharply.  
  
It stung just slightly, mostly where her fingertips had caught; her hand stung more, but did not feel as warm as her buttocks where the blow had fallen. Snow White paused for a moment, lips parted as she breathed, then cupped her hand and struck again.  
  
This time it made a hollow clapping sound, and stung her hand less, but thudded with more heat on her buttocks. The sensation made her bite her lip, closing her eyes for a moment. She could not think what had come over her, nor where the idea had come from; some children were punished in this manner! And yet not in this manner... Snow White had never been struck herself, but knew full well that this would not feel that way.

The heat was part anticipation now, and she bought her hand down a third time, over where she had struck before. Her body jerked slightly from the pain, but there was something _good_ beneath it, something that she had not felt before, a warmth that seemed to spread through to her front. A fourth time, she bought her hand down, then a fifth; each time the heat of the sting was interspersed with the cool of the air around, and she lost count as she struck herself a handful more times, until her nerve trembled and, breathless, she stood up and hugged both hands to her chest.  
  
Heat pulsed in one side of her bottom, seeped up her spine, and seemed to have pooled in the base of her belly. Snow White's hands slid down her front until she cupped her sex through her linen gown, feeling a strange dampness on her thighs. For one moment she wondered whether it was her monthly bleeding, but this was different, more pleasurable, and she pressed her thighs together before stepping away, more unsure even than before of what was happening.  
  
Ignoring the tingling still running through her, she hurriedly put her dress back on and primped her hair, collecting herself before turning to leave the room. She could not quite bring herself to think further on the matter.  
  


 

 

  
  
She spent that evening hanging adoringly on Ferdinand's arm, wanting rather more than ever to press herself into him, and that night in their bed both of them seemed surprised when she enjoyed his caresses and his kisses more than usual. With her cheeks flushed and skin warm, she cuddled up to him, and he smiled at the sight of her pleasure.  
  
The day, however, faded to one like many others, and it was not for some time that she thought again back to that strike, her own experiment, and how she had felt afterwards in Ferdinand's arms. The thought would come to her at odd moments: when Ferdinand slipped his arm around her waist, when she sat for some time on a chair and her rear became a little sore, when she watched her husband slip on his brown leather gloves.  
  
One night, when he came into their chambers, she was not in bed but seated on the edge, waiting for him with her hands clasped in her lap. Nervousness twisted in her stomach, so badly that she thought she might be ill, but the anticipation that fluttered there also clung to her.  
  
"Are you all right, my dear?" he asked, pausing in the act of removing his cloak and hat.  
  
Snow White nodded quickly as she got to her feet, bare on the soft rug of the floor. "Oh yes," she said. "I just... I wanted to ask something."  
  
He threw his cloak and hat down over one of the chairs and tilted his head to look at her. "Anything, my love."  
  
Placing one fingertip to her lips, she grazed it slightly with her teeth. "It can wait a moment," she said quietly, with the slightest nod to the clothes which he still wore.  
  
For a moment he looked uncertain, but as she turned away and walked slowly back towards the bed she saw from the corner of his eye that he continued to undress. He removed his gloves, doublet and shirt, his hose, and then looked back towards her once again. He was used to her modest behaviour, the nightgown that fell almost to her ankles, the way that sometimes she would not catch his eyes even if she was looking adoringly at him. His hand came to rest gently on her shoulder, and she looked round to him again.  
  
"What is it tht you wished to ask?"  
  
Her courage almost failed her, but she thought of his embrace, of how much - for one of the first times - she truly _wanted_ , not just faintly enjoyed, his touch, and she managed to draw that want higher in her chest.  
  
"Would you... do something for me, tonight, before we go to bed?"  
  
"Do what, my Snow?"  
  
"I want you to, to spank me."  
  
He looked at her in pure astonishment, and she felt colour rise in her cheeks. She was about to stammer an apology and turn away, when she felt Ferdinand's hand slide into hers, warm and strong. Gently he drew her towards the bed, and sat on the edge of it. "I did not think that you might ever ask," he said.

It was impossible to find further words as he drew her gently down over his lap and ran his hand slowly, firmly, across her rear. Snow White closed her eyes, feeling the stroking through her shift, and suppressed a trembled of anticipation as he stilled for a moment, then his hand left her skin, and struck down for the first time.  
  
Warmth blossomed in her once again, and she realised that this had also been what she had been wishing for.


End file.
